


the way he loves you

by deletable_bird



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Boys Kissing, Christmas Fluff, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, Love, M/M, Requited Love, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, True Love, also sick, so pls don't blame me I had domestic phan fluffy feels and idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 17:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4927981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deletable_bird/pseuds/deletable_bird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles involving Dan Howell and Phil Lester in tooth-rottingly fluffy domestic scenarios.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the way he loves you

**Author's Note:**

> [ _disclaimer_ ](http://deletablebird.tumblr.com/d)

It's soft tired mornings when Dan's barely awake and barefoot on the couch, and Phil comes through into the room and leans down, one arm propped by Dan's right ear, and kisses him almost absentmindedly because it's second nature now, the way they love each other.

It's horrifyingly domestic situations when Dan's cooking dinner and/or lighting various objects on fire and Phil comes up behind him and wraps his arms around Dan's waist, burying his face in Dan's neck, and breathes him in like he's the last thing he'll ever know, and Dan's inexplicably, painfully close to tears.

It's late, late nights in the winter, when one or both of them is tipsy on mulled wine and clumsy laughter and they trip around the house, maybe setting up the tree they've had for too long, maybe just wrestling their way out of Christmas jumpers and into pyjamas, and they stop and pause in hallways to giggle and press their lips together in kisses as sweet as sugar plums.

It's hot summer days when all either of them can muster up is a croaking complaint about the weather and the only thing they've done together for the past three days is silently share a window fan's temporary relief, and Dan finally hauls himself out of bed to make lemonade as cold and not-bungled as he can get it, and they can sit on Phil's bed and drink happiness in liquid form and press sugary kisses to the corners of mouths.

It's at Starbucks when Dan orders a PSL purely (or so he says) for the ironic value and Phil teases him about it, and they walk about in London all day debating the timing of Christmas sales in October, and maybe they hold hands and maybe they don't but either way it doesn't really matter because the way they look at each other when the other can't see is enough.

It's Dan when he wears a shirt with sleeves a little too long and he presses his mouth to the inside of his wrist like he's remembering the way he was kissed last night, and Phil swoops in like an avenging angel and makes his memories another new reality.

It's Phil when he buys a new book on a total whim and Dan finds him hours later curled up in bed with his glasses on and his computer off, and there's nothing Dan wants more than to see him every day for the rest of his life just breathing slow and peaceful and steady.

It's in the middle of the night when one traipses into the other's room, unable to sleep and full of exhausted anger. If it's Dan, he'll sit on the edge of the bed, trying not to wake Phil, and watch the soft rise and fall of breathing and heartbeat in perfect counterpoint until he can walk away and rest easy from old nightmares. If it's Phil, he'll slide under the covers whether Dan's there or not, breathing in the smell of his body spray and blankets and pressing himself into a sleepy moon-shape against a warm, bare chest under a checkered duvet until his eyes drift closed.

It's when Phil makes tea and breaks a mug, and is angry about it for the rest of the day because, unbeknownst to anyone else, that mug belonged to his great great grandmother's second cousin's third dog's fifth previous owner's sister and it held a lot of memory, okay? It was just kind of a special thing to have; and Dan boils more water and slides a fresh mug across the table as if to say _truce? Are you calm now?_ and Phil sighs at the tea and pulls Dan across the table for a kiss until the scowl on his face is a lost memory.

It's when Dan is in the shower and Phil opens the door and jumps, and apologizes, and starts to go back out, and Dan tells him to wait. And Phil waits, and Dan says it's okay to stay, and he stays.

It's when #congratson5milDannowgetadog is trending and Phil looks up from Twitter and asks if they should really get a dog? And Dan scoffs and shrugs it off and berates Phil for even thinking about it, and years later when they have their own place he broaches the subject again with red cheeks and fingers fiddling with the fraying hem of his too-long sleeves, and this time it's Phil who has to answer and of course Phil says yes.

And it's barely six months after that when Dan asks one more question, with his throat closing around cold anxiety and his fingers worrying at a worn, indecision-riddled velvet box with one precious thing inside, and when he asks the question there are tears and kisses and "down-on-one-knee"s, and of course, of _course_ Phil, constant adoring beautiful sleepy gentle laughing perfect Phil says "I love you," and he says "yes."

**Author's Note:**

> Your comments are the Eliza to my Dil; they keep me running... Um... That... Wow ok just ignore that attempt at a metaphor and leave me comments because I like them and they keep me writing.


End file.
